


Option

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 20:24:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15469335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis is questioning his engagement, and a stranger knows it.





	Option

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for hidarishoutarous’ “Ardynoct [a kiss for luck]” request on [my tumblr prompt list](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/176075204220/prompt-list).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He arrives while the council’s still in chambers, and the last thing Noctis wants to do is face the whole lot of them at once. He’s perfectly aware of how small-minded and selfish his protests are, and it’s bad enough that he knows his father will be disappointed in him—he doesn’t need a lecture from every minister who thinks that just because they’re older and financially invested they get to decide his future. Nyx is the one guarding the door, and he bows his head in greeting as Noctis passes, but Noctis doesn’t ask for admittance.

He takes one of the empty benches in the hallway and braces himself for a long, awkward wait. Granted, he could text Prompto and whittle away some time with a game of King’s Knight, but that would blow up in his face if his request was prefaced by his father finding him gaming in the corridors. Besides, he’s too much of an emotional mess to concentrate. He’s sure his face looks just as impassive as ever, but inside, he’s a mix of worry, guilt, and bitterness. He slumps back against the bench and tries not to think.

He’s only been there for maybe five minutes when another figure appears down the long hall. Nyx doesn’t bat an eyelash, so the man must be someone known to the Citadel, even though Noctis has never seen him before. Noctis is sure he’d remember someone like _that_ —tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in way too many layers but with a chiseled, handsome face, frantic red-purple hair and a bit of stubble along his jaw. He grins when he sees Noctis, then slightly adjusts his heading. 

When he reaches the bench, the man bows from the middle. There’s a sharp look in his eyes as he rises, and his grin remains in place. He asks in a smooth, almost sultry voice, “His Highness, I take it?”

Noctis just nods. He isn’t sure what to think yet, so he plays it safe and cool. Without asking, the man takes the other side of the bench, and it’s small enough that it forces their knees to brush when the man spreads his long legs. He offers a large, semi-gloved hand and introduces, “Ardyn, if Your Highness so pleases.”

After a second’s hesitation, Noctis takes ‘Ardyn’s’ hand. It wraps around him warmly, squeezing him with just a touch of _strength_ , and Noctis gets a quick, electric surge that runs a shiver down his spine—it reminds him of his own magic, but he knows that can’t be it. No one else, even the highest glaives, have enough to feel that potent current with just a handshake. Ardyn’s fingertips linger along Noctis’ palm as he withdraws.

Ardyn asks, smooth as butter, “Might I ask what’s wrong?” 

Noctis’ first instinct is to say that nothing’s wrong. He’s not the sort to open up his heart to just anyone, but something about Ardyn tells Noctis that he’s too perceptive to believe a lie. And his amber eyes stare into Noctis like he already knows. Before Noctis realizes what’s happening, he’s opened his mouth and begrudgingly admitted, “I’m sure everyone’s heard about my marriage by now.”

“Congratulations,” Ardyn offers. Noctis winces before he can stop himself.

He looks pointedly away and can’t bring himself to say the rest. He drops his hands to the bench and lets his fingers curl around the edge, tensing as they may. He knows this is bigger than just _him_ , and he doesn’t have the luxury of marrying for love.

Ardyn slowly murmurs, “I see. ...But you’re such a handsome young man... surely the Empire has plenty of _men_ willing to marry you.”

Noctis looks over. He tries not to show his surprise, or just how unnerved he is. Ardyn smiles slickly. He’s guessed correctly, even though Noctis’ sexuality is one of the few things even the paparazzi hasn’t questioned. Ardyn just seems to _know_.

Behind him, the door opens. Nyx steps aside to let their guests out—Noctis sees the Empire’s officials leaving first, their hair a little lighter and their clothes distinctly different, but mostly the cruel look on their faces. Noctis stares at their backs while they gather and retreat, but Ardyn only glances at them once, then leans in to brush a tingling kiss across Noctis’ cheek. 

Noctis starts. His face instantly heats, but he doesn’t get a chance to demand an explanation—Ardyn’s already rising. He coos, “For luck,” and then heads after the Imperials. It occurs to Noctis that Ardyn is probably one of them.

Noctis is left to tentatively touch his cheek and wonder what he _really_ wants—and just what he’s willing to do for it.


End file.
